


Dream Girl

by chemiclord



Category: Genei Ibun Roku #FE | Tokyo Mirage Sessions #FE
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-28
Updated: 2020-02-28
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:34:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22931086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chemiclord/pseuds/chemiclord
Summary: A little bit melancholic, a little bit fluffy, and a little bit lewd snippet into the life of one Itsuki Aoi after he's established himself as a powerful entity in the entertainment industry.
Relationships: Aoi Itsuki/Oribe Tsubasa
Comments: 3
Kudos: 30





	Dream Girl

Itsuki Aoi woke up at 8am on a Saturday morning in a queen size bed much too elaborate for his taste in his four story mansion far too large for his needs, feeling sorry for himself.

He was glum because, to put it simply, he never really felt he earned any of this. Maiko had basically _handed_ him Fortuna after all the hard work had been done, after the greatest threat had been abated, and after all the best talent in the damn country was already under contract.

He was keenly aware of how much easier it was for him to rub elbows with the power players in the entertainment world than his predecessor. _He_ didn't have to woo over some second assistant at a bar just to get an initial meeting with the production company vice president... over drinks of course... and _maybe_ get a promise to pass along the proposal to the actual producer before becoming blackout drunk.

No, _he_ got, “Well, of _course_ we'll talk to _you_ , Mr. Aoi! I'll connect you right to the president right away!”

No one gave a damn that he was 24, barely out of university, and sitting on a throne someone else made for him. Not while he was being carried by the best young singers, actors, and prodigies that everyone was _begging_ to work with.

Who could have _possibly_ failed at that point?

He had it so damn good, _he_ could allow himself days off, unlike Maiko, who as far as he could tell worked seven days a week, at _least_ ten hours a day. Admittedly, half the time she was drunk or hungover... but that was as much a consequence of the job she had to do as it was a lifestyle choice.

Which was why he just woke up at eight in the morning, on a Saturday, feeling sorry for himself while he lived a life most people _twice_ his age could only _dream_ of.

He morosely rolled out of bed, which quite literally required a roll as it was far too large for what he needed. _He_ would have been perfectly fine just moving his old bed from his parent's place, but Touma had been aghast at the idea, saying that he needed something bigger to fill the space in the master bedroom.

Itsuki had reluctantly agreed; the master bedroom _was_ massive, after all... a single _would_ have made it look even bigger, which was the _last_ thing his sensibilities needed.

Hell, this entire _house_ was far too large for any one person; a “parting gift/bonus” from Maiko when she resigned and handed control of the company over to him (“A big hot shot needs a big, hot pad!”). He accepted simply because it would have been crass to refuse, not because he wanted any part of such a massive living space. He couldn't recall the last time he had been on the fourth floor _at all_ , and really, the only benefit he could think of happened when he converted pretty much the entire third floor into a recording and sound studio and gym for his friends to experiment or train without drawing the attention that comes with the center square of Shibuya.

He lethargically drug himself into the master bathroom (one of _four_ in this house) to look himself over and freshen up. Not that there was anything on his itinerary to be freshened up _for_ , but he figured it was a habit that would be prudent to maintain. Can't afford to get lazy; even on a lazy day.

Every so often, he kinda hated the person who looked back at him in the mirror. Just another lucky bastard who managed to fall upward at every opportunity when he should have fallen flat on his face. Itsuki _hated_ people like that as a kid. It wasn't an attitude that changed now that he _was_ one of those people.

With the bare minimum of personal hygiene attended to, it was time to slowly descend the spiral staircase to the bottom floor, with the intent of collapsing on his couch and trying to decompress from the work week with some completely mind-numbing entertainment.

Well, as much as he could, he supposed. One problem with working in the entertainment industry itself was that it stripped a lot of the veneer off actually _enjoying_ it from a detached perspective. He _loved_ watching his friends and employees succeed, and would bend over backwards to help them attain their dreams... but the idea of ever being able to experience it from a simple viewer's perspective was lost to him.

Every time he _tried_ to just sit down and enjoy a concert or a show or whatever, he inevitably wound up taking notes about the performance and the performers involved, which led to digging into their professional bios and seeing if any of them could be suited to working with him and Fortuna...

…

Perhaps vegetating in front of the TV wasn't the best option today.

How about breakfast first?

As he turned about to make for the kitchen rather than the living room, he spotted Chrom, perched regally at the top of his cat tower. The black and white tuxedo shorthair cat was really the _only_ addition to the house that Itsuki had done without needing any coercion.

Tsubasa had decided that what Itsuki _really_ needed was a companion to share this massive space with a year ago, and lacking any real objection followed his childhood friend to the animal shelter to adopt a 'precious animal in need.'

After being introduced to six different puppies, the staff decided to try Itsuki's interest with a cat, presenting a ball of fluff small enough to fit in both hands. The little guy's aloof yet ultimately friendly nature had reminded Itsuki so much of his former mirage that there was little to do but adopt the kitten.

It hadn't been a bad choice at all. In fact, Chrom had been such a great addition that Itsuki was entertaining adopting more cats that could use a place to call a forever home.

But the reason Chrom's presence caught Itsuki's attention was because the bottom floor was _not_ the cat's preferred place to be. He _liked_ being higher up, like the fourth floor that Itsuki rarely went up to. Chrom really only came down here if someone _else_ was already here and he wanted company and/or treats.

The cat was staring intently at the closed door to the downstairs bathroom...

Wait. Why was the door _closed?_ He left the bathroom doors _open_ because that was where he kept Chrom's various litterboxes.

He scratched the cat behind the ears, and said, “I'm sorry, pal. Did I close a door on you without thinking? Let me open it up for ya, okay?”

Chrom barely reacted to the ministrations outside of a twitch of his ears, his focus steeled on the bathroom door. Itsuki took three strides down the hall when he noticed that the shower was running judging from the sound of falling water and the steam climbing in wisps of vapor through the cracks. Did he _also_ leave the shower running?

He didn't _think_ he got drunk last night.

Did he?

Itsuki opened the door, and stepped inside to turn the water off when he realized that the shower was... occupied, a vague silhouette visible in the clouded shower curtain. The occupant seemed to be humming, but the sound of the falling water was rendering it unintelligible.

He did not remember having _any_ guests last night.

So either he had gotten _very_ drunk last night... or he had an unannounced visitor. And he was 99% certain that he hadn't been drinking.

Deciding that even if that 1% chance was the case, then it was probably someone who wouldn't be offended, he yanked open the curtain to get to the bottom of this mystery.

Only to met with a flurry of blue-gray hair, a shriek of surprise, and a vision of beauty that would be permanently burned into his memory before she could attempt to cover herself.

“ _Tsubasa?_ ” he gaped as he processed that it was indeed his longtime friend, vainly struggling to cover her... assets... with her left arm while her right hand hovered over her groin.

“ _Itsuki?_ ” she yelped with equal astonishment. “What... what are you doing here?”

Itsuki blinked repeatedly, momentarily dumbfounded by the question to the point that he momentarily forgot that she was stark naked in his shower. “This... is _my house_.”

She giggled nervously, and said with fake cheeriness. “Oh! Right! Hee hee...”

“What are _you_ doing here?” He demanded incredulously, causing Tsubasa to blink incredulously.

She looked up at the shower head, and said simply, “I... I'm taking a shower?”

Okay. Perhaps on the surface, that _did_ sound like a really stupid question. “I mean... _why_ are you taking a shower _here?_ ”

“Because I got muddy?”

She gingerly extended her left index finger, and pointed it to the ground. Following the general direction, he discovered a sports bra and jogging shorts, absolutely caked in mud. While it _had_ rained last night, it hadn't been _that_ bad to create particularly muddy conditions. “How did _that_ happen?”

She giggled nervously again, and said, “Th... that's a funny story! Do you want to hear it?”

With the initial shock finally faded – as there was no longer any question about _how_ someone had gotten in; all of Itsuki's friends had keys to this place for whenever they wanted to avail themselves of the studio inside – he found his mind drifting to the immediate source of interest in the bathroom.

There was the chivalrous part of him that thought he should pull the curtain at least partially closed to give Tsubasa _some_ shred of dignity. There was a... less chivalrous part of him that wanted to do absolutely no such thing, quite content with the scenery as she became steadily less devoted to keeping herself covered.

For once, his more base desires won out. If Tsubasa wanted to hide behind the curtain, he wasn't going to stop her... but if she was content to give him a show, he wasn't going to refuse, either.

“See, I was jogging, and then a big truck drove into a mud puddle, and created a _huge_ splash!”

Itsuki nodded, though he wasn't entirely certain how _that_ was particularly funny. “And that's how you got so muddy?”

She shook her head animatedly, “Oh no! The splash missed me, but as I stepped back, I bumped into a cute puppy!”

“And then you tripped and fell into a mud puddle?”

“Mmm mmm! I didn't trip over the puppy! But it was so cute, and I was worried that it was someone's little doggie, and it ran into a drainage ditch, so I jumped in to rescue it!”

“And you fell into the water in the ditch?”

“No! It wasn't even a centimeter deep, and I landed on my feet! But it was right at that time that _another_ truck bumped the guardrail, and dumped a _whole bunch of dirt_ over the rail and into the ditch!”

“And it fell on you?”

“Nuh uh! It missed, but it scared a flock of birds, and they flew right at me!”

“And then you panicked, fell down, and got all dirty?”

“Oh, not at all! They weren't attacking me at all! But it did spook me to rush up the ladder out of the ditch... where a weird guy dressed as the red Masqueraider threw mud at me and got me all dirty! Then he _ran away!_ ”

Itsuki bit his lower lip to fight back the chuckle that wanted to bubble up through his throat.

Tsubasa didn't seem to notice, because she finished, “Then I was all muddy, and thought about going home, when I remembered you lived just a block away, and I figured once I had cleaned up, I could just fiddle around in the studio... or something. But you were still sleeping, so I didn't want to disturb you... and... well... now you're here!”

Itsuki had to admit that there was _no_ point in that story where he could even _remotely_ predict what would happen next. This was _so very much_ the sort of tale Tsubasa would find herself in.

There was a character type in Hollywood, one that Ellie would refer to regarding Tsubasa; “the manic pixie dream girl.” Equal parts throwing caution to the wind, endless cheer, with so many unbelievable adventures that they stretched credulity even in works of fiction, but often hiding a deep tragedy, fear, and anxiety around others.

It was an oddly specific trope, Itsuki had thought, but damned if it didn't describe the vision currently fidgeting nervously in his shower.

He took a deep breath. He knew he had to leave before it got too heavy. “Well, okay then. Get cleaned up, and maybe we can step out to get some breakfast or something.”

He turned to leave, but was stopped when he felt her hand grasp the collar of his sleeveless sleeping shirt. Her voice, that had been so frantically cute now sounded solemn, almost hurt.

“Don't,” she said softly. “Don't go.”

Itsuki froze, clenching his eyes shut and forcing every ounce of willpower he had as he heard her climb out of the shower, and hug him from behind, her curves pressing into his back in ways that he _really_ couldn't allow himself to think about.

Contrary to Touma's teasing in the past, Itsuki was _very_ aware of the affections of people around him. _Especially_ those he had worked with in Fortuna. And _especially_ Tsubasa's not at all subtle infatuation. She hadn't been discreet at _any_ point as they were growing up through school and as entertainers. He knew _exactly_ who she had been talking about at the idol interview that had started their adventures. He knew _exactly_ who she thought about as she performed all her songs, even before she blurted out half his name when talking about her inspiration to Kiria. He just never _confronted_ her about it, because there was no reason to.

He was _polite_ ; he wasn't _deaf and blind_.

It was also why he knew he had to keep his distance. Tsubasa had wanted to be an idol even before her sister disappeared, and that desire had turned into almost an obsession afterwards. She might have _thought_ she kept her dreams a secret, but at least to Itsuki and possibly Touma, she hadn't been successful.

Itsuki knew what happened to idols when it was confirmed they were in a relationship. It ruined their careers. Part of the appeal of those girls was that were endlessly available, that there was a chance, however slight, that they could return the affection they received. An idol who made that commitment to someone loses that magic, and their popularity drops like a stone. In extreme cases, it turns into resentment, harassment, and in even _more_ extreme cases, violence.

 _That,_ and no other real reason, was why Itsuki was determined to stay aloof all this time. To pretend he couldn't see the obvious. He couldn't bear to be the one who ended her dream. He wasn't nearly special enough to even _suggest_ , much less _ask_ , that of her. But with every day, as Tsubasa grew up more and more, it grew ever harder to keep that resolve and that facade.

And she was _not_ making it _any_ easier right now.

“Tsubasa...” he said in warning, unable to keep the strain out of his voice.

“Shut up,” she said sternly, startling him with her intensity. “Just listen for now, okay?”

He shouldn't. He couldn't stay.

He had to move.

...

He didn't. He couldn't. His own body betrayed him, his legs refusing to do as they were told, staying firmly in place.

“Do you have _any_ idea how amazing you are?” Tsubasa said, her voice partially muffled by her face buried in his right shoulder. “How many lives you have made better just by being you? Do you realize how many careers you have made, chances you've given people who never would have had one without you?”

She was talking about the recruits that he was bringing into Fortuna. He was aware of the reputation he had gained as being a place where talent, damaged by cutthroat grinder that the entertainment industry could be, could get the support structure they needed to try again and succeed. It seemed like just another example of him having the advantage of Maiko's hard work; he was really only extending on her own principles, after all.

“Akari has already sold out her first live concert. Did you know that? Sold out last night after only ten hours on sale.”

Akari Hoga. He had recruited her last year after listening to her performing on an open mic event in Cafe Seiren. She had raw talent, but so much pain and damage in her voice, which he had learned was due to an abusive coach/manager who belittled her to keep her under his heel and make her think she wasn't worth signing with anyone else. Kiria suspected some sexual abuse as well... but Itsuki wasn't _ever_ going to pry into _that_ possibility unless she was willing to share it.

Itsuki _had_ encouraged her to use her voice as a means of catharsis; to share her pain in a way that could help, rather than keep it bottled up inside, that was true. That had been Akari's impetus for her first single; an oddity in that it was a “professional debut” composed and written entirely by herself, and that it was a song that bled with painful emotion rather than the bubbly poppy puppy-love common for a singer's first offering.

And it had blown up like a goddamn bomb upon release. Turned out, it was different enough and resonated enough with a lot of people carrying their own pain that it bucked every piece of conventional wisdom and became a nationwide hit. Not even a year later, she had sold out a thirty-five thousand seat venue.

He _had_ known that of course. He had been so proud of her, and knew it was only the beginning. She was eagerly honing her proficiency in English so that she could have a worldwide impact like Kiria and Tsubasa had, and he had no doubt she'd succeed at that too.

“I could give you so many names,” Tsubasa said, “And you damn well know it. You're amazing, okay?”

Itsuki relented, if for any reason but to figure out where she was going with this. “Even if that's true... what does that have to do with anything?”

She stepped back, releasing her hold, and said simply. “Turn around.”

That would be a _very_ bad idea. Very, very, very bad. Under no circumstances could he allow himself to do that.

So of course he did.

Tsubasa was making no effort to cover herself, almost proudly displaying her every magificent curve to him, and he couldn't bite back his groan of appreciation at the sight.

With a trimphant grin, she said matter-of-factly. “She's already replacing me.”

It took every ounce of his willpower to keep focused on her eyes, especially considering that he was naturally looking down on account of being taller than her. “That's not true...”

“Yes it is,” Tsubasa insisted. “You know as well as I do that I didn't sell out _my_ last show until thirty minutes before I took the stage.”

Then she smiled, and said, “But ya know what? I'm okay with that. I'm... okay with fading out of the limelight, and letting someone else be the major idol. I'm getting a little bit old for that anyway.”

“You're twenty-four...”

“And Kiria's twenty-seven, and she calls herself 'Grandma Idol.' We age out of this sphere quickly. I've still got my acting appearances, and my voice work. Those are more evergreen, ya know? That's the _real_ reason Miss Maiko wanted me to branch out from singing to begin with, after all. I don't _need_ to be everyone's dream girl anymore. I don't _want_ to be everyone's dream girl anymore.”

She threw herself into Itsuki again, and made _no_ confusion as to her intent as she rubbed her bare right thigh against his boxer clad left one. “I just want to be _one_ man's dream girl now. ”

Then she looked directly into his eyes with a look that was somehow equal parts smoldering and nervous. “Please... Itsuki.” Then the nervousness turned to sorrow, “Unless... you really _aren't_ interested, and I just made a horrible fool of myself...”

Damn it, it really _was_ now or never.

He finally returned the embrace, reveling in her presence and all those curves that he had been trying to ignore at long last. “There is nothing that would make me happier than to spend every last moment with you. But only if you are absolutely _certain_ that you want to do this. Don't feel you have to sacrifice a thing for me. I'm willing to wait forever if I have to.”

Tsubasa tilted her head up, a seductive smile on her face, and said, “I'm not.”

Then she stood on her tip toes and kissed him.

It was akin to a firecracker popping in his gut; a burst of euphoria that spread like fire through his body. On instinct, his arms tightened around her, and he deepened the kiss, supporting her weight as her knees went weak. He could feel a giggle bubbling in her throat, and finally broke away so she could let it out.

Tsubasa was burbling happily like she was eighteen again, and not the adjusted woman she had become. “I'm ho sappy!” she managed to squeak, reverting back to the verbal tics that up until that moment he had been certain were trained out of her.

Itsuki went back in. He had waited _years_ for this, and now that it was here, he was going to take full advantage. His mouth was still talking, but in a much more carnal language that he felt expressed his desire much more effectively than words.

He completely lost track of time between that and when he literally swept Tsubasa off her feet, cradling her in his arms, marveling at how light she was... until she reminded him exactly why he picked her up with a peck on his chin and a seductive smile.

Turning about slowly, he carried her towards the stairs to the second floor.

His passenger giggled happily, then started singing through her laughter, “Itsuki's taking me to bed... Itsuki's taking me to bed... he's gonna do lewd things to me...”

He stopped momentarily, trying to appear annoyed, but he couldn't pull it off thanks to the stupid grin that refused to vanish from his lips. “You are _so_ lucky that you're so adorable.”

Climbing three more steps, he stopped again, and this time, the delight on his face was replaced with confusion as an odd bit of information bubbled to the top of his mind. “Did you say a _red Masqueraider_ threw mud at you?”

Tsubasa nodded. “Uh huh! Then he ran away while I was so surprised! By the time I thought to chase him, he had turned onto another street!”

“Hunh,” Itsuki replied, resuming his trek up the stairs, determined not to give it any more thought for the near future.

He'd worry later about whether to thank Touma... or kill him.

* * *

An hour later, a private group topic channel was starting to blow up with conjecture.

_Kiria: I refuse to believe for one second that your insane plan actually_ _**worked**_ **.**

 _Touma: Hey, neither Itsuki_ _**or** _ _Tsubasa have responded to messages for the last_ _**hour** _ _. They're doing_ _**something** _ _in there, and I highly doubt its recording._

 _Maiko: I dunno, I kinda hope they_ _ **are**_. _Do you folks have_ _ **any**_ _idea how_ _ **hot**_ _of a video that would be?_

_Kiria: Can it, you old maid._

_Maiko: Oh ho... jealousy is_ _**not** _ _a good look for you, Kiria-chan!_

_Kiria: For fuck's sake..._

_Touma: Oh, your pup got a little dirty, Kiria. Don't worry, I cleaned him._

_Kiria: That's another thing. You offered to take Gen for_ _**a walk**_ _. You didn't say_ _**anything** _ _about using him for a prop in your ridiculous match-making scheme._

_Touma: It was a spur of the moment thing! Honest!_

_[Mamori has joined the Topic]_

_Kiria: I'll give you a spur of the moment right up your ass._

_Kiria: Hello Mamori._

_Mamori: I've actually been invisible this entire time. Shame on all of you!_

_Maiko: Oh, sweet Mamorin, you should know by now that I'm beyond shame._

_Mamori: …_

_Mamori: I'm leaving this Topic now. Maybe forever._

_[Mamori has left the Topic]_

_Kiria: There are times I worry about you, Maiko._

_Kiria: And not the good kind of worry._

_Maiko: Oh, do not try to be such a prude, Kiria. Mamori's 17. She probably knows more about sex than you do at this point._

_Kiria: I refuse to dignify that with a response._

_Maiko: Because it's true._

_Eleonora: What is going on in here that's got my phone rattling non-stop? Do you guys have_ _**any** _ _idea what time it is over here in Hollywood?_

_Maiko: A little past 5pm._

_Maiko: If you're going to pretend to be annoyed, come up with a better excuse._

_Yoshiro: I don't need to pretend, nor do I have any interest in an excuse for my annoyance. If all of you want to gossip, I'd suggest not using a topic channel both Aoi and Oribe have open access to. Regardless, do so in a place that leaves me out of it._

_Touma: That's actually a good point. Why did I start talking about this here?_

_Itsuki: Good question, but Tsubasa and I have to admit it's been pretty entertaining._

_Touma: SHIT!_

_Kiria: I had_ _**nothing** _ _to do with this, I swear._

_Maiko: Aww, so you two haven't been boinking like mad this entire time? I'm kinda disappointed._

_Itsuki: Not that it's any of your business, but no._

_Tsubasa: Neither of us have_ _**that** _ _good of stamina._

_Itsuki:..._

_Tsubasa: hee hee!_

_Itsuki: You_ _**do** _ _know you're like twenty centimeters away? I can take that phone right out of your hands and throw it out the window._

_Maiko: OOOOOOOOH! Tsubasa's being naughty, Itsuki! You might have to spank her!_

_Tsubasa: Goodness! I hope so!_

_Touma: Damn..._

_Itsuki: I've created a monster._

_[Yoshiro has left the Topic: Why do I bother with you fools?]_

_Maiko: Listen, if you two ever get tired of having_ _**any** _ _respectability in the eyes of the public, I have some ideas on how you could make a_ _**mint** _ _..._

_Kiria: Itsuki, do you have mod tools enabled on this channel?_

_Itsuki: If they are enabled by default._

_Kiria: Excellent._

_[Kiria has kicked Maiko from the topic: Get yourself off on your own, pervert.]_

_Itsuki: By the way, Touma. Thanks. I think we both kinda needed this push._

_Touma: Hey, what are friends for?_

_Itsuki: I'm still going to put you through hell for it, though._

_Touma:..._

_Touma: Eh. It was worth it._


End file.
